Summary:

Voices overlap under the bar’s dim lights, making the butterbeer glass glisten on the sticky, battered table. Harry stares at the drink, absently tracing a finger along the rim and wonders how long he has been here, idly nursing the same cup over and over.

It isn’t even half-empty.

"Potter."

Or: Harry Potter has too many feelings. Draco Malfoy does too. They are supposed to be adults, but the best thing they do together is being foolishly in love.